Maureen's eyes grew hazy, and she leaned in, lips brushing Jack's in a kiss. "No wonder Zoe went crazy for you, almost breaking her promise to the family. You're like Helen of Troy."
Jack froze. Helen of Troy? He wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. More pressing was the nagging question forming in his mind: was Zoe's so-called "accidental death" in the original story really an accident, or was there something deeper at play? He made a mental note — keep watch at the department, keep Zoe safe, and prevent anything from spiraling further out of control.
The next day, he and Hannah hosted dinner as promised. They'd told John and Lucy long ago that once their rookie year started, they'd be treated to a proper feast. Tim and Angela were invited too.
The Angus Lucius case was under a gag order. City Hall was terrified of panic and leaned on the media to bury the story. With everything wrapped up so quickly, the public barely noticed. Online chatter was scattered — a few vague posts, nothing more.
The only sting was that the DA's office had moved at lightning speed, leaving Tim and Jack with just three days of administrative leave. Too short for comfort.
Jack had gone all out this time, footing the entire bill. Nearly four hundred dollars in ingredients — squirrel fish, salt-baked chicken, the crowd-favorite candied pork elbow. High-end stock from the Chinese supermarket. When the clock struck seven, everyone arrived just as he pulled off his apron.
The timing was perfect. His system chimed in: Cooking Skill (Expert) → Cooking Skill (Mastery). Finally, another mastery besides pistol shooting. It wouldn't help on patrol, but sitting down to eat with friends after a hard case? That was its own kind of strength.
Tim had brought Gordon's gin. The sharp, juniper scent cut through the heaviness of the food, pairing well with Jack's dishes. They laughed and ate, and inevitably, talk drifted back to the case.
Hannah leaned forward, lips twisting. "Guess what happened after you left last night? Those detectives from Major Crimes went straight to Zoe. Complained about us. Said we shouldn't have gone in without them."
Angela let out a scoff. "They're not even assigned to it. Only losers whine when they don't get the credit."
Jack caught Hannah's nod. "Zoe threw them out of her office. Said if they'd taken Kara's family seriously, the girls wouldn't have suffered."
Jack raised his glass toward Tim. "So that's the end of it?" He kept his tone casual, but both of them knew what he meant — the body cameras had gone down during the chase. Only they knew the truth.
Tim didn't flinch. "Higher-ups already ruled on it. Case closed. Killer's dead, no one's digging deeper."
Jack let it slide and clinked his glass. "Then let's leave it there. We're cops, not God." He downed the drink, then grinned. "Time for gossip."
That got John going. He leaned in with a conspiratorial look. "I was in Superintendent Gray's office. Someone came in talking about applying for the superintendent spot."
Angela, mid-bite, froze. Jack watched her chew slowly, eyes narrowing as the implication sank in. Her gaze snapped toward Tim.
She jabbed a finger at him. "You mocked Bishop and me when we went for detective. Now you're gunning for inspector?" She pitched her voice in a gruff imitation: "Don't know why you two are killing yourselves. Being a patrolman's fun."
She gave Tim's shoulder a slap. "And now you want to give it up?"
Tim's face stayed neutral, as always. "Better than waiting around for you to boss me when you finally make detective. I joined two years before you."
Angela scowled, still pointing. "You'd better pass that exam, Tim, or I'll have you running cases for me the second I make detective."
Tim's lips twitched into something between a smile and a smirk. "Why don't you tell them about that rich lawyer instead?"
The table perked up. Even Lucy looked up from her food, chopsticks frozen halfway.
Jack spotted the flush creeping up Angela's neck as she stammered, "We've only been on a couple of dates. Can't I have a private life?"
Lucy blinked. "Wait—that lawyer? The one who wanted to file a complaint against you?"
Jack raised his hand. "I was there. They nearly went at each other. Angela even threatened to slap him."
The table burst into laughter. Angela tried to recover, muttering something about her brothers' weddings, about needing a date so her mom wouldn't set her up with a cat-litter-smelling best man.
But when she smiled and admitted, "Wesley's actually handsome. Apologized like a gentleman," Jack noticed Hannah suddenly slap her own forehead, voice shooting up.
"Oh my God. That's why you asked me earlier about living with Jack. You're already planning to move in with him, and you didn't tell me? Aren't we supposed to be best friends?"
The whole table roared, glasses clinking, food passing around, the warmth of the reunion washing over the room.
(End of this chapter)